


An Unexpected Summer Affair

by bob2ff, pinecone



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bob2ff/pseuds/bob2ff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinecone/pseuds/pinecone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kise ends up spending an unexpected summer with Akashi Seijurou, the entire affair challenges him in ways he never could have imagined, or anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The four bare, white walls were suffocating. Such pure whiteness was unnatural. There should at least be a blemish somewhere, a slight stain overlooked by the cleaners. But no. Instead, the chalky colour spread on and on, as though the walls went on for miles. It made Kise want to run as far as he could, until he could touch the boundary which signalled the end of those walls.

“Kise-san.”

Kise blinked. He looked at the nurse. She was blushing. To be expected, of course.

“Dr Tohru told you to straighten your leg for inspection,” she said, almost shyly. 

Kise turned to beam at the doctor, who was glaring at him. “Please pay attention, Kise-san,” said Dr Tohru disapprovingly. “You wouldn’t want your injury to get worse.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Kise said, laughter bursting merrily from him like bells tinkling. “But since it’s you, Dr Tohru, I’m sure my leg will soon be in top condition!”

She wasn’t impressed. Looks like Dr Tohru wasn’t as easily swayed as the nurse, who had flushed an even deeper red. That alone assured Kise of her competence.

The inspection lasted too long for Kise to be comfortable with it. As it dragged on, he fidgeted until Dr Tohru started scolding him, in tones reminiscent of Kasamatsu. Eventually he was released from the checkup, and he ambled off towards the exit with his hands in his pockets.

Several weeks had already passed since that quarterfinal with Seirin. And also, that match against Shuutoku. Since those matches, he had found it difficult to get back into his normal routine of modeling and basketball (and hospital checkups in between). 

The balance was now skewed. Instead of an equal amount of both, it was now more basketball and less modeling. Rather than a deliberate choice, it had been a choice out of responsibility. Like a seesaw with weights on both sides, he now acutely felt one side more than the other. That weight had settled on one particular side of the seesaw since Kaijou’s losses.

Moving towards the exit, Kise started thinking of an excuse he could give to Hayakawa to let him do the usual practice sets later that day. Hayakawa-senpai hadn’t been letting him do anything substantial. Then, his eyes fell on a pair of clean, black loafers.

Kise blinked. Those loafers were classy. Polished, and elegant. His type of shoes, exactly. He turned his head upwards, meeting a pair of heterochromatic eyes. 

“Kise. It’s been a while.”

Kise’s jaw fell, slowly, open. “Akashi-chii?! What are you doing in Kanagawa?”

Akashi tilted his head. “Isn’t it obvious? The only reason would be to meet you, Kise.”

Despite the serenity in Akashi’s tone, it took a while before Kise was sufficiently calm to have a proper conversation with him. For Kise, calm meant not talking in high-pitched exclamations. His vocal chords followed the whims and fancies of all his emotional undulations, unfortunately.

Akashi being there was, simply put, utterly strange. Why would he even take the effort to see Kise, out of everyone? Back in Teikou, Kise was certain that Akashi had expended the least of his expansive intellect on him. It was like being a grey mollusc in a sea of multicoloured fish. Even the most ardent admirer of the ocean would first marvel at the fish, before glancing, perfunctorily, at the mollusc. 

Opposite Akashi in the hospital cafe, Kise’s self-defence mechanisms kicked in. That is, he started babbling non-stop.

“...so then after the karaoke, Moriyama-senpai suggested we have a gokon, well, a final _final_ gokon, just to celebrate all the senpais’ graduation from the team! But then of course, Kasamatsu-senpai hit him on the head because he was shy and embarrassed to meet girls. Ah, don’t tell him I said that, Akashi-chii! Oh, and then Kobori-senpai said we should just have a quiet hotpot party, in someone’s house instead —”

“Kise,” said Akashi patiently.

Kise stopped his stream of babbling immediately. Frankly, he was quite glad Akashi chose to speak up.

“I must confess, there is a specific reason I came to visit you here in Kanagawa.” 

There it was. The real reason Akashi Seijuurou deigned to pay him, of all Miracles, a visit. Unbiddingly, his breath hitched. It shouldn’t have, because he should have expected it. At Teikou, when the wind stopped blowing in his ears, he had experienced something else instead. Something new. An unfamiliar feeling to him, that only emerged because he was among such players as the Miracles. That feeling only intensified once the winds came back. Once felt, it couldn’t be blotted out easily. He had thought he had eradicated that feeling completely, after entering Kaijou and meeting all his senpais.

“What is it then, Akashi-chii?” came his response, his tone light and joyful. This was the way he always approached things. All the more when he had this feeling, which threatened to drag him down into the depths of despicable self-pity.  

“I wanted to invite you to my house and private gym in Tokyo for the summer.”

Akashi’s statement floored Kise. Immediately, that feeling vanished.

“You inviting me to _what,_ Akashi-chii?!” 

Several nurses shushed Kise.

Akashi narrowed his eyes at Kise. “Please don’t make me repeat my words, Kise.” 

“Okay, okay,” said Kise quickly. “I guess...what I want to know is...why?”

Akashi fell silent for a moment. “...There is an exercise regime my personal trainer has arranged. It is suitable for the current condition of your leg. Perfect for you to improve your basketball while simultaneously performing physiotherapy on your leg.”

Kise blinked rapidly. This was...new. He wasn’t sure what he felt about this, yet. Something like this had no precedence. This wasn’t like Teikou or Kaijou at all. Kise suddenly saw an image of himself looking over a steep drop of a cliff. As though he was about to bungee jump. Or maybe plunge to his death.

Whichever it was, it was exhilarating. He had complete liberty to choose what to feel from that point on.

Kise grinned at Akashi. “Sure, Akashi-chii! That sounds awesome! Just let me know the arrangements closer to the summer!”

“Certainly.” Then Akashi smiled back.

To Kise, this was rare, like seeing a hummingbird rest on a flower.

*** 

The remaining of Kise’s first year (and the beginning of his second) was incredibly frustrating to him. Even three months after the Winter Cup, Hayakawa-senpai and the others still acted as though Kise hadn’t recovered completely, sheesh. He barely saw Kasamatsu, Moriyama and Kobori — they were too busy preparing for their entrance exams.

All this left Kise feeling like he was shrouded in a strange haze. A haze that made him feel restless. He couldn’t wait for the next basketball tournament. Maybe after that the haze would disappear. Practice would return to normal. He heard the winds, once more. He was the ace, he thought, but the team wasn’t letting him _be_ the ace.

So Kise set off to Tokyo for the summer without complaint. There wasn’t anything else to do, after all. He shouldn’t attend Kaijou’s t(l)aining camp, Hayakawa-senpai had said, in case his leg hadn’t fu(r)(r)y (l)ecove(l)ed.

Hayakawa-senpai. Months have already passed since then.

In front of Akashi’s door, Kise took a deep breath. This was it. One-on-one training with Akashi-chii. He hadn’t the slightest idea of what the summer would entail.  

Feeling a little like he was entering a principal’s office (or a torture chamber), he tentatively knocked. Before his knuckles landed on the mahogany, however, the door was opened. 

“Ah, Kise, you’re on time.” Akashi gave Kise a Look, the surprise in his eyes muted but pointed. Kise immediately felt the reprimand for all the times in Teikou he had fluttered in late to practice, trailed by the squeals and adoration of his fangirls.

Kise gulped. Then he smiled his most charming smile, the one that worked even on Kasamatsu-senpai, through senpai’s grudging whacks on Kise’s head. “I just couldn’t wait to start, Akashi-chii! You know—” 

“First lesson,” Akashi cut him off, abruptly. Kise felt his insides wilt. “Meditation.”

Kise gaped at him, mouth hanging open. “B-but— basketball!” That was the only word he could sputter out. It was Akashi-chii, though. He would understand, even if Kise spoke in stutters and mono-vocabulary.

“Every good athlete develops focus as well as physique. Develop your concentration and you will be a better basketball player than you ever were before,” Akashi stepped forward calmly and placed the tip of his finger, gently, right between Kise’s eyebrows. The touch was so subtle, featherlight and tender. 

Kise’s eyes followed the movement of the finger, until he was nearly squinting. Then he snapped his gaze down onto Akashi-chii, standing much closer to him. From this distance, he could see every one of Akashi-chii’s eyelashes. Refined and delicate, like Akashi-chii himself. 

Right then, Kise experienced the enigmatic sensation of being irresistibly pulled towards Akashi Seijurou. It was an unconscious magnetism, like being drawn towards something so exquisitely perfect, you had to have it. Or like a prey attracted to a beautiful predator.

“Silence and calmness. Start with looking for an environment most conducive to that.” His touch leaving Kise like a butterfly brushing against a flower, Akashi left Kise standing in the middle of his parlour.

Precisely forty five minutes later, Kise was still lost. He had found a mind-boggling series of rooms that all seemed to be empty, Akashi-chii’s servants vanishing like shadows every time Kise poked his head in with a cheery greeting. An elaborate, Western-style dining room. Then a study, with never-ending rows of books that made Kise’s head spin just looking at them.

Finally, he had sat in the center of Akashi-chii’s front lawn outside and closed his eyes. He always liked being outside, anyway. If Akashi-chii had a basketball court that would have been even better. The moment his eyelids brought cool blackness upon him, thoughts started swirling around his head. Kise always did have a noisy head.

Kaijou and basketball were the most dominant thoughts, sinking like stones from Kise’s head all the way to the bottom of his heart. The burden of the name, and the obligation to be the ace. A fear tightened in Kise’s chest. The fear of not being good enough.

The thoughts were overwhelming Kise, fast. He almost felt like he was drowning, the pressure in his chest was so intense. His eyes snapped open. He buried his face into the grass, and yelled out.

He felt embarrassed, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. But Kise had always been a vocal person. He was not one to bottle his feelings up and bury them. This grass though, Kise thought he could bury himself in it forever. It smelt nice. It was expensive grass indeed — Akashi-chii’s family had good taste, as to be expected.

“No need for more meditation, Kise,” Akashi’s calm voice was sudden, piercing through the comforting smell of the grass. “Certain people are not built for it, and you are one of them.”

Kise scrambled up, his ears feeling like two hot pieces of coal attached to his head. Dimly aware of the pieces of grass still stuck to his face, his self-defenses kicked in. “But Akashi-chii! W-what about what you said about brains and stuff? I need to build better brains, or something like that, to be a better basketball player!”

He continued babbling incoherently about ‘heads’ and ‘bodies’ with the occasional ‘basketball’ thrown in until Akashi stopped him, his hand reaching out to pick a stray piece of grass on Kise’s cheek. Kise wondered if it was wishful thinking, and the echoes of his need to impress, that made him believe Akashi-chii’s hand had lingered ever so slightly on his face. The echoes of Akashi-chii’s unconscious magnetism, making Kise sense that wistful longing.

“I thought meditation could make you shut up for once,” Akashi-chii’s smile then was like he was sharing a secret with Kise, and only with him. It was like a special gift for Kise alone.

Kise could barely breathe through the hammering in his chest as Akashi-chii’s smile widened, his gaze steady and intent on Kise’s face. “Evidently, I was wrong.”


	2. Chapter 2

“That’s enough stretches, Kise.”

Kise stopped from where he had been gritting his teeth through the struggle of trying to make his leg do as he asked. It was frustrating. The muscles were still stiff through the stretches and movements of the training sets Akashi-chii made him do every morning. Kise felt like his leg betrayed him, every time it did not act the way it had always used to.

It was a never ending loop of disappointment, each betrayal chipping slowly away at Kise’s confidence in himself. Kise was drenched, all over, with sweat and frustration.

“Let’s take a break.” Kise could see the beads of sweat on Akashi-chii, watching him breathe deeply and calmly after his turns at the treadmill. Even soaked in sweat, Akashi-chii looked cool, sure, and certain. Like a captain worthy of leading Miracles. Or a captain worthy of monsters.

“One-on-one, Akashi-chii?” Kise could not help the hopeful note in his voice. They had only just gone through one week of training, but ever the optimist, Kise was already starting to believe that this was going to be a _great_ summer, if they were going to play one-on-one basketball between training sets.

He longed to _really_ play basketball again, without the crushing pressure of competition, and the obligation to push himself, again and again, beyond his limits.  He longed to play basketball for the sake of basketball, and nothing else.

“I have something better in mind,” Akashi went to his bag by the side of the gym. Kise followed him eagerly, not quite able to stop the bounce in his steps. 

“Have you ever played shogi before, Kise?”

Kise’s insides shrank, and wilted. He worried for the state of them, by the end of summer. He hoped they wouldn’t be a sodden, lumpy mess. But Akashi-chii was looking at him expectantly, a glow lit up behind his otherwise calm features. Kise knew all about excitement, and that was definitely Akashi-chii’s form of excitement. Subtle, and hidden under layers of formality and properness. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Akashi set up the board in the center of the gym, and sat cross-legged on the floor. “I’ll teach you. Shogi can help you learn focus, as well.” He turned to look at Kise again, and this time Kise could _definitely_ see the enthusiasm in his eyes.

Kise boggled at him. Somehow, Akashi-chii being anything other than serene and calm was against his conception of Teikou’s former, and Rakuzan’s current, ruthlessly competent captain. But here he was, keeping his eagerness to play shogi carefully lidded, sitting casually on a gym floor, elatedly waiting for Kise.

Kise hadn’t the heart to whine and refuse. So he sat cross-legged opposite him, and proceeded to try and learn all the incomprehensibly complicated names of shogi pieces.

An hour later, Kise was sprawled on the floor, a towel over his face, only occasionally getting up just enough to move a piece as Akashi-chii dictated. Essentially, Akashi-chii was playing with himself, and Kise was the puppet with which his opponent moved pieces with.

“Akashi-chii~” Kise had to whine, the towel muffling his voice as it floated out towards an intensely focusing Akashi. “When are we going to start playing basketball?” 

“Look, Kise, here is an example of a bluff, where I move this piece here intending to—” Akashi cut himself off as he finally registered Kise’s floating question. He gave Kise a critical once-over, then looked back down on the board. 

“We’re not going to start playing basketball until I am convinced that your leg is sufficiently healed from the training sets,” Akashi continued not looking at Kise, instead concentrating on moving the _ryuo_ piece precisely in the centre of the square he placed it in.

Kise bounded up. “Then I’ll start training more right now! The priority is for me to get fully healed, after all. Then we can play basketball!” His towel fluttered down, but Kise did not care, already moving towards the calf press machine. 

Kise heard the clatter of scattered shogi pieces before he felt Akashi’s hand, gripping his forehand in a strong, warm hold. Akashi-chii had stood up, too. His beautifully planned, winning strategy against himself was ruined, the shogi pieces instead all over the gym floor. They looked like stars in a constellation, all spread out. So far away from Kise, in understanding, and in appeal.

“ _No_ , Kise,” Akashi’s eyes on Kise made him feel disappointed in himself, for disappointing Akashi-chii. Kise hadn’t been able to learn shogi, for him. Kise’s leg hadn’t acted like it was supposed to. Kise had somehow failed him, when he failed himself. 

Then Akashi released him, and let out a sigh. It was soft, but it went through Kise like a knife. “You have always been this way. You think that if you push yourself enough, you can somehow force yourself to reach what you want, where you want to be.” 

Akashi looked intently at Kise. “It doesn’t work that way, Kise. You need patience.”

His look was so gentle, so compelling, that it made Kise’s heart swell. It seemed like his heart had swelled so much he could not speak. It made all of Kise’s despair, and frustration fade away. Akashi-chii was not disappointed in him. He was _worried_ about Kise. And of course, with everything Akashi-chii did, he showed those things through thoughtful, methodical planning, and immense subtlety.

The realization settled in Kise’s chest, warm and comforting like a hot drink on a cold, rainy day. He could not help the blinding smile that spread across his face, as he looked at Akashi-chii.

“Thank you, Akashi-chii,” Kise reached out a hand tentatively, and squeezed Akashi’s. Even with all the hand cream and branded products Kise slathered on his own, Akashi-chii’s hand was more perfect than his. Kise’s hand felt clammy, and sweaty, wrapping around that perfect hand. “For everything.” 

Then Kise looked down at the scattered shogi pieces. Somehow they did not seem so alien, anymore.  Somehow they seemed less distanced, and a lot closer. “Should we start another game?” 

He peered carefully at Akashi-chii. “Or was this just another attempt to shut me up?” He winked, cheekily, even conjuring up a few sparkles. He could not help himself, trying to charm Akashi-chii like this. He was too fascinating, too intriguing, too compelling. Kise could not resist being drawn towards him. 

“Every exercise in ‘building better brains’ is not just to shut you up, Kise,” Akashi was looking at Kise from the side of his eyes, and Kise could see the corners of his lips quirking up, wrily. “You actually _do_ need to develop better focus.” 

The laughter emerged from Kise, natural and wonderful. He could not quite help the contented, longing gaze he shot at Akashi after that. But Akashi-chii was not looking at him, already bending down to gather the shogi pieces.

Kise rushed down to help him, his fingers tingling every time they brushed against Akashi-chii’s. He could not resist leaning in closer, enjoying the delightful twinge in his chest as he sensed the heat from Akashi-chii’s presence. The contentment, and peace, washed over him like a warm day in spring. He could bask in that presence forever.

“Kise,” Akashi’s voice sounded like it came from very far away, even as Kise blinked and his eyes were right in front of him, beautiful and intent. “There are no more pieces to pick up. Continue your training sets.”

Kise laughed, high and unnatural. “Of course, Akashi-chii!” 

Akashi-chii’s smile then was discreet, like he knew something Kise didn’t. It made Kise’s face heat up. Did Akashi-chii _know_ about Kise’s unconscious, unbidden reaction towards him every time they were in near proximity? Somehow, they were still very close together. _Very_ close. Kise could, yet again, see every one of Akashi-chii’s eyelashes. 

Kise found his eyes drawn towards Akashi-chii’s lips. Refined and delicate, yet again. Kise was fascinated, by the secretive quirk in them. It made him want to press his own onto them, and find out all the secrets they were refusing to tell him. Kise’s lips started tingling, and his heartbeat ratcheted up as he breathed fast and shallow, willing the courage to lean in.

But Akashi suddenly stood up. It became very cold around Kise, abruptly. He blinked, and looked up at Akashi.

“Come on, Kise,” Akashi said. He was not looking at Kise anymore. “I’m going to run again. My stamina is very much below my own standards. I, too, have training to do.”

Kise could not respond. The pressure was back in his chest, choking the words and suffocating everything he wanted to say, and do. Waves of disappointment, and frustration, rolled over him, washing away the warmth and contentment he had just about began to associate with Akashi-chii.

The shock came just as overwhelmingly, as Kise wondered why he had been so _dejected_ when Akashi-chii had brushed him over. He wondered why he cared so much. 

Kise stood up, dully, and trudged towards the calf press machine. He threw a tentative glance at Akashi, but Akashi’s gaze was intensely focused on his stats on the machine. Kise could not help looking the beads of sweat starting to form again on Akashi-chii, highlighting exquisite collar bones and the bone structure of someone even more perfectly made than Kise himself. Drawing Kise’s intrigue, even as the disappointment weighed heavy in his chest. 

Kise swallowed the bitterness that had somehow arose in his throat, and focused on his exercises. He felt the slow burn in the muscles in his legs as he stretched them, along with the slow flare of thoughtful realization beginning to glow in his chest. 

Kise felt drawn to Akashi-chii, _very_ strongly, that was pretty much obvious. There was only so much one could do against someone as enthralling as Akashi Seijurou, after all. But did he feel anything _more_ than that? 

***

“Ka-saa-maaat-suuuu-seeeeen-paaaaaai~!” Kise wailed into his mobile phone, each syllable more drawn out than the last. He stared up at Tokyo’s blue, clear sky. It was so blue it seemed to Kise to stretch out to infinity, except for a few solitary puffs of clouds. Kise wished he could be lying on one of them, contemplating his problem.

Except Kise had never been the contemplative type. His disastrous attempt at meditation had proven that. So now here he was, lying in the center of Akashi-chii’s lawn once more, calling the one person he hoped could lead him out of his conundrum. 

“Kise, you have two minutes and I’m hanging up,” Kasamatsu’s voice was clipped and irritated, but Kise could sense the resignation in his voice. 

Kise’s self-defense mechanism kicked into overdrive as he prattled into the phone, his heart racing in his chest. His breath came in short pants as his anxiety spilled out.

“I’mstayingwithAkashichiinowinTokyoandwe’vebeentrainingmyinjuredlegforoveraweekandIthinkI’mgoingcrazybecauseeverytimeIgetclosetoAkashichiiIfeelweirdalloveranditsalmostlikeI _like_ himorsomethingbutI _can’t_ likehimbecauseit’s _Akashichii_ andthere’snowayIcansurvivelikingsomeonelikehimandwhatifhe _knows_ andwhatabout _me_ and—”

Kise was cut off as he suddenly heard the dull beeping tone of the phone. Senpai had hung up on him.

Kise immediately called him back. “Sen-paaaai~!” he wailed. “That was mean.”

“You were not making any sense, idiot,” blunt and honest, that was senpai.

But somehow, Kise could suddenly breathe easier. He paused for a while, trying to gather his thoughts, scattered all over haphazardly in his head. Hm, maybe he really _did_ need to build better brains. At the reminder of Akashi-chii and his shogi and the meditation and his irresistible charisma, Kise felt his heart start to pound in his chest again. 

“Senpai, what should I do? I don’t know what to feel right now,” Kise pleaded. The pang of insecurity, and fear of being not good enough, struck through his chest. Not good enough in basketball, and not good enough for Akashi-chii.

“How should _I_ know, idiot!” Kise could _hear_ senpai’s embarrassed blush, as the strangled tones of his yell made Kise move the phone a little further away from his ear. “You’re the one who can’t shut up about how everyone loves you. Now you’re asking _me_ for love advice?” 

Kise just sighed. He looked up again at the solitary puffs of clouds. They looked so lonely, and small. Insignificant in the big blue sky. Unworthy of attention.

Senpai’s flush still sounded loud and clear through the phone as he next spoke. “I’m not sure what’s really going on with you, but I think you just need to buckle down and take on anything as they come. Isn’t that what you’ve always done?”

At Kasamatsu’s words, a small, hopeful glow sprouted within Kise. He felt like floating up with it, as the blaze of competition began to flare within him. He had never been one to back down from a challenge, after all. In basketball, or anything else.

Kise had just began to say something when Akashi’s voice sent a jolt of cold alarm through his veins.

“Kise, please come with me.”

Kise, to his eternal humiliation, _squealed_ as he quickly hung up on Kasamatsu-senpai, slipping his phone away. Senpai would be _pissed_. But he would get over it— he always did. Or so Kise hoped. 

“Akashi-chii!” Kise smile was so wide on his face, he thought he might have pulled a muscle. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere other than the center of the front lawn, where every neighbour and their dog can see us,” Akashi-chii’s gaze slipped towards Kise, his lips quirking that wry smile, the one that made Kise’s heart thump forcefully in his ribcage.

Kise laughed, cringing slightly at how breathy it sounded. He sounded like one of his _fangirls_.

“I really like your grass, Akashi-chii,” Kise said earnestly, then winced at how _bad_ that was. He was talking about _grass_ to Akashi-chii, of all the topics in the world. Kise was _better_ than that.

“Well, I’m flattered that you do,” that smile emerged again, a secret gift for Kise alone. Kise thought he could look at it, and treasure it, forever.

Then he blinked as he realized where Akashi-chii was taking him.

“You have a personal stable?” Kise gawked at the beautiful, graceful, white horse within the compound. “You have your own _horse_?” Kise thought he should not be as surprised as he was. It was Akashi-chii, after all. 

“This is Yukimaru,” Akashi approached the horse, and patted it. “He’s been with me since I was born." 

Kise felt the warm, contented wave wash over him as he looked at Akashi-chii, patting his horse. He could not help the longing smile that came over his face as he contemplated Akashi-chii’s expression. The subtle serenity, and affection, that came over Akashi-chii’s features as he stroked Yukimaru.

The more he spent time here, with Akashi-chii, the more he was discovering little things about him that he had never known. Kise was discovering, more than anyone else ever had, what lay beyond the exquisitely perfect facade.

He felt like he was being privy to a precious, rarely seen collection, just for him alone. Kise felt like he was being given a privilege that he would cherish and hold close to his heart, for the rest of his life.

Then Akashi-chii turned to look straight at Kise, and Kise quickly looked down at his shoes. It was then Kise realized he had stepped on some of Yukimaru’s...excrement. His manager was going to be _pissed_ that Kise had ruined those designer shoes.

“You’re going to ride Yukimaru, Kise.” Kise’s gaze snapped back up towards him.

He gulped. Then he yelped, “Akashi-chii! I’ve never ridden a horse!”

Akashi just gave him another Look. Kise was reminded of all those times he had whined through Teikou’s punishing training regimes, and protested about training diets that consisted of _unagi_ , of all loathsome things. 

“Meditation didn’t work, and shogi didn’t work. Horseriding could help you with your focus, as well. This is part of your personal training, Kise.”

Then he smiled, reassuringly. Kise sensed the undercurrent of amusement in the quirk of his lips. Somehow, that made Kise even more terrified, amid the fluttering in his stomach.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Akashi stood by the riding ring, observing Kise fail spectacularly at riding a horse. It was intriguing. To Akashi, Kise was the epitome of the perfect student. Show him once and he could perform it flawlessly, effortlessly. 

Which was exactly why Akashi didn’t demonstrate the action to him. All he did was give a few sparse instructions. Horse riding was an activity Akashi learnt himself. The process of discovering each movement, of building a relationship of trust with your horse — these were things he would never want to take away from Kise. Kise had to discover for himself, the approach he ought to take with his horse. That was the only way to form a bond between human and horse.

This was something he had failed at in Rakuzan. It had taken defeat, before he truly saw the worth of his teammates. He had to see them the way he saw Yukimaru. There had to be meaning. Without meaning, one would not be able to see the vast expanse of blue skies, on top a trusted steed. It was the same in basketball. 

He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He would do it over with Kise.

“Kise,” Akashi called out. Tears slightly welled in his eyes, Kise looked to him. “Enough horseriding.” 

He smiled. “Let’s play basketball.”

Eyes widening, Kise scrambled off Yukimaru. He trotted after Akashi to his ridiculously large private gym.

They stood opposite each other, feet apart. Still smiling, Akashi lifted a basketball until it was right between them.

“A one-on-one, Kise. Let’s go all out against each other.”

Kise blinked once, then licked his lips. If there ever was an answer behind his unexplainable attraction to Akashi, he would find it in this game. Maybe going against Akashi’s indominatibility would show him exactly why he was feeling that way. 

“All out, Akashi-chii?” he said. “That means…”

“Yes.” Akashi nodded. “You can utilise your Perfect Copy technique. And I can use Emperor’s Eye.”

Unable to contain his excitement, Kise grinned, showing teeth. He could finally prove himself. And against Akashi, no less. The past few months being babied had left his nerves itching for a game like this. 

“Let’s go then,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“First person who catches the ball starts.” Akashi threw the ball high in the air.

Immediately, Kise emptied all thought from his mind. He focused instead on Kagami’s jumping technique. Perfect Copy was a method which required concentration of the highest intensity. He had to reach a place in his mind where everything he had ever learnt was located. That place resembled a library of profound silence, like he was in the core of the earth. In that library was where all his memories were.

Kagami’s jump secured him the ball. Within that place in his mind, he grabbed Midorima’s book. Landing immaculately, he switched to a three-pointer form. As he lifted the ball, however, Akashi’s hand tapped it mid-motion, precise like a needle.

“Too predictable, Kise. Try to utilise Perfect Copy more creatively.” Akashi turned, doing a drive towards the hoop.

Shit, cursed Kise inwardly. Panicked, he switched to Aomine. This particular book fell easily from the shelves of his mind. Perhaps too easily.

Kise ran with Aomine-like speed towards where his reflexes told him Akashi would be heading. Passing Akashi, he turned around, falling easily into a defensive position. His vision turned with him, then his eyes widened. Akashi had stopped. Too late, he grabbed Akashi’s book in his mind. 

“I knew you would fall back to Aomine’s move, Kise. Hence I planned this move in advance,” explained Akashi, making a flawless jumpshot. He was so casual, it could have been conversation over tea they were both having. The ball swooped into the net, sinking like Kise’s stomach.

The Emperor’s eye now utilised, he saw that Akashi’s moves had been a feint. Aomine’s reflexes, so quick and agile, had told him where Akashi would be. But Akashi had executed the feint flawlessly. He had fooled Aomine’s reflexes.

“If you had chosen any other person to mimic, you may have been able to stop that shot,” said Akashi, walking up to Kise. “But you chose Aomine instead.” He placed a hand on Kise’s shoulder. “Kise. You have to move beyond Aomine. Find your own skill, your own self. Only then can you become a true ace.”

Akashi’s hand on his shoulder should have been comforting. Kise thought it heavy, instead. As heavy as his whole body was, in that moment. He tried to smile.

Akashi frowned. “...Kise? What’s wrong?”

“Akashi-chii…” He swallowed. “You’re right, of course. I did move on from Aomine-chii. I owed it to my team during the Interhigh.” He laid his hand over Akashi’s, lifting it from his shoulder.

Touching Akashi like that should have been momentous for Kise. The weight of that moment would have equalled the feeling of brushing against individual photons of light. Each one so bright, yet elusive. And so rare an incident.

In that moment, however, Kise could only think: Aomine-chii was our ace in Teikou. Akashi-chii handpicked, acknowledged him as ace. Kise himself? Like a shiny cog in a machine, he had replaced an old and rusty one. He had replaced Haizaki on the team. Someone else, Akashi, had been the one to give him the position. Because he was but a cog, he didn’t do it himself. And like a cog, he didn’t stand out in any way. He existed only to keep the machine, Teikou’s winning machine, running.

Akashi knew his existence was just that — a cog — back in Teikou. But what about now? With such doubt, it was better for Kise to fall back to a safe space. That was Aomine. Aomine had been properly acknowledged, as the ace no less, by Akashi. Not Kise. 

Mimicking Aomine, Kise thought, would find him acknowledgement at last. Akashi would finally acknowledge Kise, the way he acknowledged Aomine at Teikou. Kise would get the acknowledgement he needed, that he never got in Teikou. 

Yet, Kise still had not gotten it right. He was still failing Akashi-chii, when he had fallen back onto mimicking Aomine-chii. He was still failing at being a true ace. He was still failing at being more than a mere cog.

Kise couldn’t have explained all this to Akashi. He could barely comprehend it himself. He released Akashi’s hand. The action went against a deep longing inside him to keep holding on. Until he understood all this truly, though, he had to let Akashi go. Let all the photons scatter, even if they left vestiges of light on his fingertips. 

“Thank you for the advice, Akashi-chii,” was all he said. Then he turned from Akashi, and left the gym.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be very lovely! =)


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